


Fantasies from Afar

by dannywrites



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Daydreams, M/M, Pining, Sexual Fantasy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, steve is rlly gay for hb: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9169765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannywrites/pseuds/dannywrites
Summary: Part of an art trade with tumblr user hugstomp! (A super cool person)The prompt was Steve having a huge crush on Herobrine, not admitting it, and having daydreams about the two of them.





	

It started at night; late into the evening, when Alex and Herobrine were already tucked into the comfort of their own rooms. The moon cast a pale glow through Steve’s window and the stars seemed like mocking specks, laughing quietly while Steve stretched and curled his body enough times to wring himself tired.

He settled on the fetal position and forced his eyes closed, trying to focus on the undulating ache in his core. They had spent the day fishing and diving for clay in the swamplands, leaving their hair full of muck and grass and their legs sore from the constant protest of the shallow waves. Steve barely had the energy to curse Herobrine for doubling over with laughter earlier; tears flowing when he saw Alex and Steve’s greenhorn sea legs in action.

He drew in the covers tighter, surrounding him in dark warmth, and tried to think of comfortable things. The feeling of pulling away a satisfyingly huge chunk of clay, reeling in a monstrous salmon, hugging Herobrine and Alex right before they parted for the night.  

Heat blossomed across his face when he remembered embracing Herobrine. Despite his earlier jeers, Herobrine patted Steve on the back with a confident force and asked if he hadn’t overstepped any lines. Steve, genial as always, said that they were cool but still wondered at the relieved look on Herobrine’s face before the god pulled him in for another hug. His hands gripped around his core with purpose and his shoulders met Steve’s with surprising strength.

The miner sighed at his own fancy. To him, pursuing anything romantic with the god seemed too far-fetched. It wasn’t a matter of low self-esteem or of Herobrine’s preferences (though if they swung in his favor, Steve wouldn’t mind). After observing and living with the god for months, he couldn’t imagine Herobrine pursing a romance of any kind. Regardless of this assumption, Steve’s mind and body refused to quit reacting to this _one_ memory.

As he recalled it again, Steve gave in with a short huff. He imagined Herobrine hugging him from behind, his signature scent and heat blending with that of the well-worn sheets and stuffy warmth below the covers. The phantom sensation brought a small smile to Steve’s lips, the weight of his aches kneading into his muscles slowly but deeply. He sunk further and further into a fateful rest until his wandering body was at bay.

~*~

               Alex shouted with the enthusiasm of a child on a snow day at the incredible sight, rushing the other two miners to spot the ravine she had found.

Herobrine and Steve caught up with her on the top of a hill, which cascaded down into a lush, snowy taiga. The tree line was dusted with fresh white snow and Steve could hear wolves treading through the deep snowy floor, dozens of paws racing for their next adventure. He could only grin, hoping to join them in his own when he would finally dip into the ravine.

Alex stepped down the hill precariously, nearly giving Steve a heart attack when she almost fell forward but kept her balance in time. Steve tried to follow her by watching his step, but when he set foot onto a jutting rock, it gave out from under him. A yelp caught in his throat as he felt his balance rapidly change, but he soon realized that he hadn’t collapsed. Herobrine was gripping his forearm with an ardent grip, keeping him within a breadth of an inch from falling over the edge.

Steve looked down, at his arm, and finally at Herobrine. A fleeting look of worry crossed over his features before the god pulled Steve closer to him. His voice wavered but kept a firm tone.

“Are you alright?” Steve nodded vigorously in an attempt to calm Herobrine but the ice betrayed him once again, making him slip into Herobrine’s cautious arms. He pulled up the miner again and motioned to speak, but perked up suddenly. The question on Steve’s tongue died before Herobrine was hoisting the miner up into his arms bridal-style, leaving him wide-eyed and stiff.

The sudden change in altitude had Steve’s head swimming but he let himself gradually relax in the god’s arms; his own arms wrapped around Herobrine’s shoulders as he slowly stepped down from the hill. His cautious steps gave Steve enough time to realize how close he was to Herobrine , how his bitten lips were pressed firmly together, how his brow was furrowed and wet from concentration, and how the strength Herobrine was supporting his weight with was trembling in an effort to remain steady. Steve knew that the god had immense strength, but he quirked his eyebrow at that small detail.

Alex had a knowing smirk on her face when she met the two at the bottom of the hill, foot tapping jokingly into the dense snow, with her arms crossed. Steve didn’t say a word, but Alex wasn’t afraid to look him dead in the eye before turning to trudge through the taiga.

Herobrine let the miner down softly and patted him on the back, pointing an accusatory finger in his reddened face (Steve didn’t know if it was from the cold or his own damned imagination).  

“I might not be there next time, you know. Watch out.” Herobrine tried to sound threatening, but after Alex’s look, the god’s serious expression soon faded into one full of mirth. Steve laughed alongside him and followed him into the dense forest, still trying to steady himself from the Close Encounter of a Herobrine-Kind.

The taiga was cold; not the breezy cold for light jackets and an afternoon of Frisbee, nor the heroic cold for trekking through rough winds and a noble cause. It was, as Steve elegantly put it, a “shitty, wet-ass cold”. That got a chuckle out of the two, but it didn’t prevent them from shivering in the drizzling mists of chilled droplets. It was the rainy, hailstorm cold that seeped into every pool of warmth and stuck pinching tendrils into unmentionable places.

The three miners trudged side by side, idly watching the new biome pass as they made their way to the ravine. Steve’s mind was running on autopilot, eyes swaying left and right, hoping that that the ravine was deep enough to expose a pool or two of steaming lava. He sighed leisurely at the thought but caught sight of Herobrine constantly licking and biting his lips to his right.

“Dude, you’re gonna destroy your lips if you keep doing that.”

Herobrine turned to him curtly but remained polite. “Steve, I care about you, but in these conditions, this is one of the few things keeping me from going mad.” And with that, the god continued with his nasty habit.

Steve rolled his eyes and jabbed Alex, rolling his eyes at “Mr. I’m-gonna-go-mad-from-the-cold”. Alex snickered along with him, earned them both scathing glares from the god.

The routine continued until Steve finally found himself gazing at the god’s face _again_. Steve almost thought it was a shame that he was hurting himself, but nearly froze in place (not literally!) when he imagined what Herobrine’s lips would feel like on his own. He swallowed and felt his chest tighten under his coat.

He imagined the god slow but unstoppable in the action. In Steve’s mind, time flowed with the ease of a current, not restrained by logical possibilities. Steve would press his own against those of the god and, while bitten, Steve imagined the texture lending a different feeling to whatever embrace he had had before. The miner’s tongue would slip between the two and Steve could feel his chest pounding, as if his two partners could catch him. It occurred to Steve that the rational thing to do would be to stop, but his fleeting mind was too quick to halt.

Steve could feel the Herobrine in his mind stir from all the attention, groaning into the kiss before threading his hands into Steve’s hair. His fingers raked over his chilled scalp with the gentlest touch and goose bumps rose beneath Steve’s heavy coat. In his mind, he was exploring Herobrine’s mouth with vigor, cupping his face with a tense grip, one that said _please stay_. He imagined the god sighing at the contact and sucking in the miner’s tongue, imagined marking him by nipping his lips and swallowing the deep, lovely sounds Herobrine was struggling to make in the back of his throat, thick with need.

Steve barely noticed when they had finally reached the ravine. He masked a low sigh and kept his head low, replaying the too-short fantasy until it felt like a distant truth.

~*~

“Is ‘Brine okay? He hasn’t moved yet.”

“Uh..I. Don’t know? I don’t think he’s seen one of those things in a while.”

“Still, it’s been months since he found us.”

“The Nether isn’t exactly a fun place, Steve.”

“But what abo—“

The cavern shook dangerously, centering on the middle of the cave the trio had found. Every formation, every ore, every tool in that room trembled from the impact. All except for one.

The dark purple arch in the middle of the room remained as steadfast as before. The proliferate fungi growing in its cracks and the aged moss spreading across the surface contrasted with the strength of the portal. Herobrine dragged his palm down from where he had planted it a moment before, crusting his fist with dirt and ancient moss.

The god didn’t turn to his friends. “Steve, I need your diamond pickaxe.”

Steve’s eyes shot up. Disassembling a portal was a timely endeavor; he was about to argue about reason, resources, and time, but Alex’s hand on his shoulder told him enough. He fished out the glassy tool and handed it to the god.

“I’ll scout ahead, just gimme a holler when he’s done okay? And make sure he doesn’t tire out too quickly! I don’t wanna make the trip back home yet.” Steve nodded earnestly and took up his own iron pickaxe, spying the redstone hidden in the corner of the ceiling.

After a bout of digging, Steve came down with his glowing spoils and sat next to his knapsack. The god was still at the task, with seven blocks left to chip away. Gone was his shirt, sweat streaming down his back. The torrent of picking seemed endless; even when Herobrine looked done, panting hard enough to expose the stressed neck muscles near his throat, he gritted his teeth and grunted as his pickaxe came down on the accursed portal once more.

The god’s small yet fierce rampage had Steve’s mind running wild again. He drank in the sight of the god working tirelessly in front of him, barely noticing the miner openly staring at his impressive physique.

Defined to the very collarbone that rose with each mighty swing, the god’s scarred abs and glistening shoulders inspired awe and lust in the tired miner. He had to resist the urge to reach out and touch him, but he was conscious enough to keep the fantasy he was crafting hidden.

He imagined the two of them standing close together, sharing heat as the god pushed Steve against a wall with a grunt. Herobrine was on him in seconds, grazing his teeth against Steve’s neck and tasting the warm skin for himself. Steve bit his lip at the ghostly sensation. In his mind, those glowing eyes held his gaze while he inched his hands up with shirt. Steve would shudder as Herobrine caressed his chest and passed his callused fingers over his nipples, the god smirking at the rapid rising and falling of Steve’s chest.

Before Steve could even reach out to touch the god, Herobrine’s hands slid slowly down to the miner’s hips, raking his nails over the sensitive skin. Steve groaned at the contact but the sound was captured by Herobrine’s hungry kiss. The desperate force behind it startled Steve but his hands laid motionless at his sides when the god brought a knee between Steve’s legs, rubbing against him almost tauntingly.

A particularly loud hit with the pickaxe brought Steve out of his reverie, shaking his form with all the shock of a rude awakening. Once he realized that the god was still working, Steve went back into his own imagination.

A roaming hand finally gripped Herobrine through his pants as he continued to frot against the miner, earning him a loud moan and  a desperate swipe of the god’s tongue across his lips. Steve had eventually brought his hands up again to pull the god closer, close enough to give back all he was giving to him and then some. When Herobrine turned his head to the side smoothly, Steve’s legs almost buckled at the warm, wet sensations that the new angle brought. Herobrine chuckled into the kiss and Steve’s chest trembled from the thick vibrations.

Eventually, Herobrine pulled back until the two were an inch apart, foreheads slick with sweat but unmoving each other, gazing at each other silently save for their shared breathing. The god reached down into Steve’s pants, slid his fingers under his waistband and around his member. Steve shut his eyes closed and sighed longingly into his grip. The rough palm against him was teasing but unrelenting, dragging its fingertips over the head to spread the precome there and tracing the veins gently. The miner sucked his lower lip as he lost his patience, his breath, and his control at the sensations.

After what seemed like ages of torture, the god finally caught Steve in a firm grip and slowly got the miner off, bobbing his strokes and keeping a fast pace. Steve covered his mouth to silence his increasingly loud moans, but the god took the offending hand and brought it to his face. Herobrine took two, three fingers into his mouth, sucking on the digits masterfully, staring into Steve’s eyes. The intense contrast of Herobrine’s wonderful hand and tongue caught Steve off guard, and within minutes, he was bucking into Herobrine’s hand faster, arching off the wall, muscles drawn tight with tremendous force and lips gleaming wet while he called out silently, reaching his climax with the impact of a pleasurable punch to his nerves. His mind was numb as he rode out his orgasm, giving in to Herobrine stroking him slowly—

“Steve, are you alrig—“

“WHA—oh.”

Herobrine’s countenance was one of confusion. The cavern was grey, save for the two of them and the torches in the doorway, casting simple but lively shadows against the rocks as they flickered freely.

“You seemed to be in a daze. Did you hit your head?”

Steve shook his head and stood up too fast. Suddenly, his vision was dark and his balance was off. He staggered for a moment and leaned his hand on the cave walls until the world stopped shaking and clouding Steve’s mind with pain.

“I-I’m fine, ‘Brine. Just a bit tired from mining.” He strode towards the middle of the room and looked down, bringing his hands to his shoulders in an effort to look responsible.

“So that’s it for the portal then?” Steve said, standing up straight. Herobrine’s face kept a hint of confusion as he nodded.

Once the two had collected the obsidian and redstone, the two walked side by side and went to look for Alex. Steve let Herobrine walk ahead, adjusted his suddenly _very_ tight pants and jogged to the god’s side again.

(Herorbrine didn’t put a shirt on until the next day. Steve slept soundly without dreaming that night, content with his own mental creations but longing for something beyond a distant, ephemeral truth.)


End file.
